Five Stages
by Kkarrie
Summary: They always said going on vacation wouldn't kill him, but it turns out they were wrong. Shorts based on the Five Stages of Grief. WARNING! CHARACTER DEATH


**Introduction**

The morning it happened, the morning that no one would forget, was just like any other morning in the Santa Barbara Police Station. It was just after eleven and the three of them were celebrating a solved case with smoothies. Lassiter was out of town so he couldn't even yell at Shawn for sitting on his desk and drinking a smoothie the color of small children's pajamas.

They were laughing, Gus more smirking and Juliet was hiding a smile behind her hand, but they were having a good time. That was when the chief had come over.

"Are we being too loud?" Juliet asked immediately, concerned about the level of professionalism that she maintained at work.

Shawn knew something was wrong. The chief's mouth was set in a line and her eyes were beginning to tear up. He completely forgot that he wasn't a real psychic. "Lassie," was all he said and Vick nodded.

"I'd like to see you in," she couldn't finish her sentence. She just motioned the three of them to follow her into the conference room.

"Chief, what happened?" Juliet was worried, the certainty in Shawn's voice had put her on edge.

"Detective Lassiter was involved in an incident at his hotel this morning. There was a domestic dispute in the room next door to his and when he went to complain..." Karen looked at her hands. "He was shot in the scuffle. By the time the EMTs arrived he was gone."

Juliet didn't say anything, but started to shake as she buried her face into Shawn's chest.

"The sheriff of the town told me that he saved the girl's life." Karen's voice hitched. "He died a hero."

**Denial**

"Where are you going?" Shawn asked Juliet the next morning as she buttoned up her blouse.

"I'm going to work," she said, brushing out her hair and pulling it back into a bun.

"The chief gave you the rest of the week off."

"I don't know why she would do that." Juliet said, turning to look at herself in the mirror.

"Weren't you in the conference room yesterday?" Shawn frowned.

"Is there a point to this conversation, because I need to get to work. My partner needs me." Juliet avoided answering him.

"Jules," Shawn stood up and crossed the room. "Lassie's not coming back."

"Yes he is," Juliet blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. "He's coming back and we're going to solve cases together and arrest bad guys and, and," she put her hands on Shawn's chest. "And he can't be gone."

Shawn pulled her in for a hug, letting her cry all over his Apple Jacks shirt.

"He can't be gone," Juliet whispered again.

**Anger**

"Dude, why didn't you get more chips at the store?" Shawn snapped, slumping further down in his chair. "You're the one who eats all the Doritos and then doesn't buy more at the store. You leave the empty bags around, taunting me."

"I didn't finish that bag, you did. Don't blame me for something I didn't do." Gus frowned and sat down in his own chair.

"I'm just saying, you could have bought more when you went to the store today." Shawn glared at him and went to get another snack from his desk.

"Why are you yelling at me?" Gus crossed his arms.

"Because I'm angry at you! You didn't get more Doritos when you know how much I love them" Shawn shouted, throwing the unopened bag of pretzels at his empty chair. It landed with a satisfying thwap against the cushion.

"You aren't angry at me." Gus corrected him. "You're angry about the fact you have to wear a suit to the funeral."

"Don't say the F word!"

"I'm going to say it, funeral, funeral, funeral." Gus jutted his chin out defiantly.

"You say it one more time and I'll punch you." Shawn threatened, closing the space between them.

"Funeral," Gus said quietly, daring Shawn to throw a punch.

Shawn did throw the punch, but Gus ducked and grabbed for his best friend's hands. They wrestled and Gus ended up sitting on Shawn to hold him still.

"What are you really angry about, Shawn?"

Shawn struggled against Gus, but his friend was strong from all those dance classes. He finally stilled and sat panting a little bit, trying to catch his breath.

"What are you angry about, Shawn?" Gus repeated the question, just as quietly and calmly as before.

"I'm angry that Lassie went and got himself shot over a stupid argument." Shawn whispered.

"I didn't hear you,"

"I'm angry at Lassie!" Shawn yelled, finally shoving Gus onto the floor.

Gus thought for a second that Shawn was going to throw another punch, but he just sat in the chair.

Then softly, the tears started to fall and Shawn ducked his head so Gus wouldn't see them.

**Bargaining**

It was almost three in the morning when Juliet heard the noise. She bolted upright in bed and grabbed first for her sidearm and then reached to her left to wake up Shawn. That's when she realized what the noise was. Shawn wasn't in bed, that meant he was in the living room working on a case.

Softly she padded down the hallway in her socks. Sure enough, Shawn was staring at the white board he'd brought home from the office. The case wasn't officially his case, but Juliet didn't want to bring that up, not before the funeral.

"Shawn, come back to bed," she whispered from the hallway. "You can finish that in the morning."

Shawn shook his head, not even looking at her. "I need to solve this case. I'm so close, I can sense it."

"Shawn, even if you solve that case right this very moment," Juliet hesitated before she said the next part. "Lassiter won't come back."

Shawn gave a forced laugh. "I know, I know Lassie's... gone."

Juliet came over and sat on the arm of the couch, next to Shawn and stared at the white board. Shawn's handwriting was a time line all its own. It started out legible, that must have been right after dinner. Now it was a jumbled mess of lines that vaguely resembled letters. She wrapped an arm around Shawn's waist and gave him a hug.

"I love you. Just remember you can't bring him back" she whispered and gave him a small kiss.

Shawn watched her as she headed back to bed and then turned back to the case board. "Maybe I could if I solved this." He whispered.

**Depression**

It had been three days, four hours and thirty-seven minutes since the funeral. Juliet glanced at the clock and then at the desk in front of her. Someone needed to clean out Lassiter's desk and Juliet wasn't about to let anyone else touch it.

She found her partner's life in that desk. The bottom drawer had old versions of his divorce papers, shards of what looked like the porcelain figurines he'd bought for his wife the first year that Juliet had been his partner.

The drawer above that had his crap list and the black notebook that Juliet had found before his disastrous birthday party.

Juliet opened the top drawer, expecting to find files, pamphlets for gun classes or workshops, but instead there was only a handful of pens and an envelope with a card inside. She slowly turned the envelope over and smiled sadly. It was the thank you note she'd written him after her first year. He hadn't said a word about whether or not he'd gotten the card or even read it.

Juliet slowly pulled the card out of the envelope. She'd gotten just a simple cream colored card with block print on it that said thank you. She knew he wouldn't like a frilly girly card. When she went to open the card, she almost cried out when the card fell apart into two pieces, the front and the back. Lassiter had read her thank you note so many times that it had worn out. The ink on the inside was a little faded, but Juliet could still make out what she had written.

That was when Juliet noticed another card inside the drawer. It was the exact same card, but this one wasn't addressed to Lassiter, it was addressed to her. With trembling hands she opened the card.

_O'Hara, thank you for being a good partner. I wasn't sure you would work out when you were first assigned to me, but looking back I wouldn't have it any other way. You always say you learned a lot from me about being a detective, but I-_

The last line was crossed out, but if Juliet turned the card to a certain angle she could read through the ink.

_But I learned a lot from you about being a better person. - Head Detective Carlton Lassiter_

Juliet thought she had cried out all the tears during the funeral, or the two nights since, but she hadn't. She broke down in the middle of the station. Even McNab couldn't comfort her.

**Acceptance**

Shawn stood staring at the head stone. Juliet had gone back to work and Gus was catching up on his route, which meant Shawn was left to his own devices.

He had hated the funeral. He had hated that he had to dress up. He had hated that he had been forced to talk about Lassiter to a crowd of people who Shawn didn't know and who didn't know Lassiter.

Sure, they knew of Lassiter. They knew he was the youngest head detective in department history. They knew he took three creams and four sugars in his coffee, but they didn't know the man himself.

"Did anyone really know you?" Shawn asked, crouching down in front of the head stone. "If they had known you, they would have put glocks on your head stone instead of these silly flowers."

Shawn stayed crouched down until his knees hurt, and then he kneeled in front of the head stone. He should be heading home, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If he left now, he would be leaving Lassiter forever.

"I'll take good care of her." Shawn quietly told the head stone. "Juliet, I'll take care of her. I know you didn't like the fact we were together, but I'll protect her and she'll protect me. I'll even beat up her new partner if he turns out to be an idiot."

He sat there until it started to get dark, then he gently placed the flowers on the headstone. He had picked out the manliest flowers he could find, but he knew Lassiter would have hated them.

"Before I go there's something that I never thought I would tell you." Shawn paused as he bent over the head stone and then, so quietly no one could hear, he whispered, "I never was psychic."


End file.
